


her place near the river

by hugebitch



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 18:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10836471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hugebitch/pseuds/hugebitch
Summary: "Shiro had just driven Tessa from one of her projects in...Antwerp, I believe. She came storming into Rosanna's apartment in Venice, furious. She and Rosanna had an argument I never completely understood-but instead of leaving when I was told to do so, I stayed to listen. I heard what Rosanna truly felt about me, heard her report about me to Tessa. And I finally understood what an idiot I'd been. I dropped the coin into a canal and never looked back."--Sanya, Small Favor





	her place near the river

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Abigail (artyandabby)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/artyandabby/gifts).



> Content warning for casual mentions of drug use and discussion of a manipulative relationship. Title is from "Suzanne" by Leonard Cohen. Since there is discourse surrounding this in fandom circles, please take this note as an invitation to leave any sort of criticism you please on here.
> 
> Also Abbey is the one that made me actually want to write Tessa/Rosanna so this is for her. Love that Abbey.

Despite the fact that in the past few days she had been shot at, pushed in front of a car, and attacked with a magical katana, the part of Tessa that hurt the most was her pride. Antwerp had been a project that she had invested time and energy into, and she’d had high hopes for it. But now, thanks to that stupid Knight, all she had to show for it was a ruined grimoire and no damn idea where Namshiel was.

“Miss, excuse me,” a woman said softly in Italian. The pin on the lapel of her blazer designated her as a member of the airport staff. When Tessa gave her a flat look her eyes widened and she switched to quick, if accented, English. “If you come with me we can find your parents. I’m sure they’re still in the airport.”

Tessa hissed. “I am _in my forties_ , you stupid cow,” she snapped in Italian, and shouldered her way past the woman before she could say anything more. That settled it--she was never wearing jeans again, comfort be damned.

To avoid any further confrontation she pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head. It worked, for the most part, and she made her way through the streets of Venice without a single person trying to bother her. Her quick pace and instinctive knowledge of the streets helped too, as did the cloud of electricity she’d gathered around herself. Calling power to her when she was this vulnerable wasn’t the best idea, but she’d had a long week and was beyond unwilling to deal with mortal idiocy.

Come to think of it, the whole Order was full of fools too. Nicodemus must have been too occupied with faking snobby accents to help her out, with Deirdre likewise too busy staring lovingly into his eyes to care about her own mother. Although she hadn’t bothered to reach out to Cassius she knew what his response would be, and McKullen had apparently decided to go on his fiftieth honeymoon or whatever with his stupid little Red Court boyfriend. She ground her teeth as she stalked into the apartment building she’d been headed to, and without so much of a glance at anybody in the lobby she hit the stairs, taking them two at a time. The world was full of morons and the last thing Tessa wanted was to have to deal with a single one of them. Her hip, still healing from the car crash, ached, and she had to work to ignore the pain as she pulled her key out of her jeans pocket and unlocked the apartment door.

Pushing the door open revealed a couple lounging on the couch. They were both seemingly in their twenties, but the woman had a calm sort of knowledge lurking behind her deep brown eyes that only came with age. Magog’s host fit the type that flocked to Rosanna like flies to honey. Tall, muscular, naive. The kind that saw a pretty girl looking at them and thought that they could own her heart by just holding out a hand. It was pathetic, really, but Tessa didn’t offer any commentary on that.

“So this is what you’ve been doing,” she said, the pain in her hip fueling the bitterness in her voice. “Holing up here with your latest boy toy while I risk my neck.”

The boy toy in question gave her a curious look but didn’t comment. Rosanna’s eyes flashed all the way to golden. “Only for you,” she snapped. “I only ever do this for you. And you told me you didn’t need me. You told me you’d handle it on your own. You said--”

“I know what I said!” Tessa’s hands balled into fists. “Have you ever considered that I hate watching you two fawn over each other when I know damn well what he means to you? When I know what I mean to you?”

The gold drained from Rosanna’s eyes, leaving behind a soulful brown. “Oh,” she said quietly. To the host she said, “Why don’t you turn in? I’ll be with you in a moment.”

The young man kissed her on the mouth and padded off to the bedroom. The second the door clicked shut behind him Rosanna was off the couch, her arms wrapped around Tessa. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think of it like that, sweetheart, I--”

Tessa went up on tiptoe and brought their mouths together, felt all the stresses of the past week melt away as Rosanna opened up to her like a blossom. She cupped Rosanna’s face in her hands and rocked back down to her heels, taking Rosanna down with her, gently biting her lower lip before letting it go with a soft swipe of her tongue. “Shani,” she said quietly.

“Tess, I missed you so much,” Rosanna breathed. The soft curves of her body were a mercy after days of being thrown into increasingly hard surfaces, and Tessa wrapped one arm around her waist as she brought her head back down for another kiss. It had been far too long since they’d been together, really--there had been stolen moments over the past few years, but when Rosanna had a project she devoted herself wholeheartedly to it. It was what Tessa valued most in her, but at the same time it was horribly inconvenient.

Tessa pulled away to breathe and to give Rosanna a once-over. She was wearing a red silk slip that made her brown skin gleam like gold and clung to her every curve. Her hair hung in loose curls, brushing her collarbones and forming a dark halo around her strikingly beautiful face, and her eyes were half-shut, her gaze smoldering. “You look… good,” Rosanna murmured, and bit her lip. It was an unconscious gesture. In all the centuries Tessa had seen her work, she’d never done it around any of Magog’s hosts. It was something purely _her_ that Tessa and Tessa alone got to see, and a possessive thrill leaped in her throat at the thought of it.

Unfortunately she was going to have to pour cold water all over their mutual parade, at least for a few moments. “I’ve been wearing this sweatshirt for three days,” she said drily. “How’s Magog acclimating?”

Rosanna tossed her hair. “Wrapped around my little finger,” she said. “I say jump and he doesn’t even bother to ask how high. He’ll do anything for his poor little demonic damsel.” She laughed and it was music to Tessa’s ears. “Oh, woe is me, I’m richer than Croesus and I drive a motorcycle and I can play with the fires of Hell itself. Pity me.” She shook her head. “It’s pathetic how these men think they have any chance of having me. They’ll never compare to you, Tess. Never. You’ve given me the world. And soon Magog won’t need my help to keep his host settled and it’ll be just the two of us.”

A smile tugged at Tessa’s mouth. She let it. There was something wild and free in Rosanna, behind all the masks, and it brought out a similar lightness in her. Being with her was like being young again and chasing after sparrows. “I’m going to Missouri,” she said. “There’s a thriving opioid market there. Bunch of sheep living in mass-produced houses.” She reached up and ran her fingers down Rosanna’s face, down the swanlike line of her neck, down to the hollow of her throat. Rosanna was silent, her eyes closed, straining into the touch. Her pulse was rabbit-fast. “I’m going to turn their world into a pile of ash. Come with me.”

“Anywhere,” Rosanna breathed. Her response was as fast as it was fervent.

Tessa smiled and withdrew her hand. “We’ll let Magog have his fill of bloodshed and walk off with the power.”

“And the opioids,” Rosanna said.

“And the opioids.”

Rosanna kissed her again, and this time picked her up with an easy strength not typical for her slender body. Tessa buried her hands in her hair as they kissed, tilting her head as best as she could so that they had more leverage. Rosanna burned like a furnace against her and the slide of her lips would send countries to ruin. They toppled onto the couch, still entwined, and even Tessa couldn’t hide her pained grunt as her hip jarred.

Rosanna pulled back. “Are you alright?”

Tessa shifted on her lap as the joint throbbed. “Mmm,” she said, and buried her face in Rosanna’s neck against a flare of pain. “Been better.”

Rosanna patted the small of her back. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Sounds good.” Really what she wanted was to lose herself in Rosanna’s embrace and then go to Missouri and burn the whole state down, but a movie was fine too. It had been a long flight, a long day, a long _week_. And there was still Namshiel to contend with. She let thoughts of schemes and plots fade to white noise as Rosanna rewound what she and her current project had been watching, and dozed off by degrees as Rosanna eased the two of them down to lie on the couch.

Neither of them heard Sanya leaving.


End file.
